The Missing Years
by Samiasavage
Summary: A story about Fred and George and what happened during the sixth and seventh book. Might go past Fred's death a little. We shall see when I get there. Rated T for now but might change later. Fred, George, OC - Victorie
1. Chapter 1 Moving In

A/N This is my fist fanfic. It's about Fred and George during the sixth and hopefully seventh book. What was going on with them during those years. I would really appreciate feedback from anyone that reads this since it is the first one I have written. I want to get better at writing and I know you guys can help me out!

Will be rated T for now, might change later...

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><p>Moving in<p>

"That's the last one. Finally!"

George looks over his shoulder as Fred sets down the last box. He sighed a sigh of relief before running his hand through his hair."Never thought it would take that long!" Fred exclaimed, looking around the room at all the boxes they now had to unpack.

"I never knew we had the much stuff," George laughs. "It all seemed so little back at the Burrow.."

It had taken the two days to find all the items they had hidden all over the Burrow away from Molly's watchful eyes. It had also taken them twice as long than it should have because she didn't want to let them go. When they announced they were leaving to move into the flat above the store, she just kept crying.

"So what should we do first? Set up the store or the flat?" Fred asks, looking in some of the boxes.

"Well brother, while I can't wait to start selling things, I think I'm going to go get something to eat. Care to join me?" George asks casually while walking towards the door.

Fred starts to protest but his stomach rumbling stops him. "You know me to well."

They head off down the street, looking at all the shops as they pass. Some of the shops they used to love to go to, closed and boarded up, barren and dusty. They nod to Tom as they sit down in the Leaky Cauldron and order some food from a very spunky witch who was working there.

"You know, we should try to hire someone to help out around the shop." George stats. Fred waves him off, ogling the witch while she walks behind the bar.

"Yeah yeah, hire someone." he mumbles.

George slaps him on the head, laughing. "Maybe we should hire her." he says gesturing towards her.

"Yeah why not." George can tell that Fred isn't paying attention to a word he is saying anymore. So he decides to piss him off.

Walking over towards the witch, he thinks about if they should really hire her. She seems like she can hold her own.

"Well hello there." He lightly touches her should, turning her around. "I was wonder-"

"Gerroff me!" Slapping his hand away, she starts to pull out her wand.

"Woah, I don't want no trouble! I was just wanting to ask you something!" George says backing up, hands raised. "See my brother and I," gesturing towards Fred, "just moved in. Wanted some help."

Eyes narrowing, she glances over his shoulder to look at Fred, who is still seated and now staring, trying to see what's going on.

"What kind of shop." she asks.

"A joke shop of course." George smile mischievously. "Tell you what, you come swing by tomorrow and we'll have it set up where we can show you some of the products. You can decide then if you want to help us out or not."

Lowering her wand, the witch cocks her head to the side thinking. "Well, I guess I could swing by during my lunch tomorrow. Be nice to see a new shop, since most of them closed up. Alright, you got a deal."

"See you then," he says, walking away winking. "By the way the name's George."

"Victorie." she whispers, turning back to her work. "Oh, never grab me like that again. I will blast you. I tend to be really good at jinxing."

George laughs as he walks back over to his brother, remembering the days of the D.A. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out that coin, lost in memories.

"George! What was that about?" Fred asks when George sits down to eat the food that showed up while he was gone. "Talking to girls without me."

"Got a new girl to work in our shop. Would have had you ask but you were to busying staring at her arse." The look on Fred's face makes George roar with laughter. As they walk back to the shop, Fred keeps talking about it, still not able to believe George did this without him.

"So many boxes!" George exclaims when they walk back into the flat. Whipping out his wand, he flicks it and watches as they sort themselves out, depending on whether they stay in the flat or go down to the shop. Fred takes out his wand and flicks it, so the boxes that belong to the flat go to the rooms they belong to.

"Guess we can start with the kitchen and work our way to the rooms?" George suggests, gesturing that way.

"Sounds good to me, brother." Fred agrees as he walks to the kitchen and grabs a box.

~End Chapter~


	2. Chapter 2 Inner Fears

Inner Fears

"OI, Georgie! That's the last box for this room!" I yelled from the spare bedroom. The flat only had two rooms, but George and I decided to just share a room. It was what we were used to after all, from the years at the Burrow. The extra room was going to be used as a smaller testing room.

"Same in here! Come help me set up the beds." George yells back from down the hall. I walk over there and see him put the last couple of items on the shelf in front of him. Looking closely, I smile as I see a picture from the Prophet of our family vacation to Egypt.

Waving our wands, the beds put themselves together and the linens organize themselves on them. I flop down on my bed, arms stretching above my head, ready to relax after a long day. Folding my arms under my head, I turn to see what George is up to.

"Don't get to cozy," He says, turning to his closest. "We still have the shop to start setting up tonight. Don't forget, Victorie is coming over tomorrow to check it out."

I groan loudly and turn to look over at him to complain. "Oh come off it. Does she have to come over tomorrow? Why can't we just hire her and get it over with. I mean rea-" I stop short as I realize George is changing his shirt. Memories flood over me as I see his skin ripple over his shoulders and ribs.

Memories of when I could see those bones so much more clearly. Every rib… Every bone in his spine… Those were dark times for us both.

"Fred? You alright there?" George turns, asking me. He's holding a new shirt in his hands and staring at me with a quizzical look on his face. "Fred?" he asks again when I don't respond.

But I don't really hear him. All I can hear are the conversations we had that year. The ones where we always ended up mad and hurt. The ones where George ran off to who knows where, and I just sat there, not knowing what was going on.

"Fred!" George exclaims, hand on my shoulder. I jerk, startled since I didn't hear him walk over. His eyes are wide and confused.

"Gerroff me, I'm fine! Now put some clothes on you Numpty!" I laugh as I push him off me.

I leave the room to go get some food, even though I feel his eyes burning into my back as he watches me leave. I feel that he's concerned, but it's not something I really want to bring up. Those times where we didn't talk were the worst..

"Freddie, you sure you're ok? You're being really quiet." George asks as he walks into the room.

"I'm fine, let's go set up the shop for this girl you're brining over tomorrow" I say with a smile, walking towards the door.

"So many boxes!" George exclaims. "How did we ever get so much stuff?" Apparently, he forgot we had a lot of stuff shipped over before we moved in.

Sorting through all the products actually takes longer than we both thought it would. We found a lot of stuff to get rid of too. Pranks that had gone wrong, items that we had given up on or had already perfected. Finally, as I set aside the last box, I can sit down after hours of sorting.

"So why couldn't we use magic for this?" I ask George.

"To much stuff for it to sort through, that's why." He replies, setting a few items aside. "I told you, it just would have been a mess. Magic can't solve everything." He flicks his wand at the pile of trash and vanishes it. "That, however, we can use magic on."

I watch him as he puts some items on the shelves, walking down the different aisles. A thought enters my mind about how lucky we were to find this shop, as I watch George walk away. Looking around, again realizing all the space we were lucky to find, I hear a crash.

Jumping up, I notice that the sound came from the direction that George walked in. "You alright Georgie?" I yell out as I sit back down. _He's fine. Just dropped something.._ I pick up a piece of parchment that has the design for our new sign for outside. I get about halfway through reading it before I realize George never responded.

Flashbacks of him passing out come to my mind. Him dropping in the middle of hallways, thank god that were usually empty, passing out after Quidditch in our room.

I run over to the aisle I think I heard the sound come from. "George? GEORGE?" I keep yelling his name hoping he'll answer. _Please don't let it be a relapse! PLEASE!_ I plead with whatever god will hear me. As I get nearer though, I realize my worst fears have again come true…


	3. Chapter 3  Relapse

A/N Forgot to put this on the last chapter, but this story will jump around. As in, who tells the story will change. This chapter is from George's view point, hopefully you noticed last chapter was Fred's view point. I remembered how to put in A/N's so that won't happen again. If you are reading this, write me something so I know. Give me some hints or anything!

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><p>Relapse<p>

"Well I hope he's ok. He seemed really nice the other day. I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron if you still want me to work for you.""Yeah, I'll let you know…"

"He'll be ok. He's strong, don't worry." Footsteps, a door opening. "If you need any help, you know where to find me." A door closing.

"Oh Georgie…" A sigh and the feeling of someone getting up from the foot of the bed. The fog rolls back in as I try to say something or open my eyes even. Everything goes black again.

The soft hoot of an owl. _Our owl, Orion._ I suddenly remember. The scratching of a quill and a sigh. "Georgie, I hope you wake up soon.." A chair scrapes back and I can only assume he's getting up to send off a letter. A few seconds later, another hoot and the flapping of wings.

Footsteps coming closer to me and the feeling of someone sitting on my bed. A hand rests on top of mine. He never says a word, but I know he's there. I try to say something, anything, as the fog rolls back in again. "Freddie.." Swallowed by darkness

My eyes flicker open and I stare at the ceiling. Blinking slowly, trying to focus. I turn my head to the side. A face slowly starts to take shape in front of me. I realize what the wait across my legs is. I reach out and grasp his hand. He doesn't move and I realize he's asleep. Dark purple shadows under his eyes make me think he hasn't slept in a long time. I run my thumb over the back of his hand, grateful that I have such an amazing brother.

"Georgie…" he mumbles in his sleep. "Please, come back to me.." He shifts slightly, before settling back down. _He always did do that while he slept._ I remember.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.." he murmurs once more before his breathing evens back out.

Laying there watching him sleep, I try to remember what happened to where I ended up this way. I remembered talking to Victorie and asking her to work with us. I could remember setting up the back of the shop, sorting through boxes and getting ready for all of the orders that were supposed to arrive later that week. The last thing I could remember though, was walking down an aisle with an arm load of different items yet to be placed. Fred yelling my name after a crash. Then… just darkness.

As I tried to figure out what happened, Fred stirs again. He groans a he starts to sit up, pulling his hand from mine. Standing up to stretch, he yawns and looks like he never got any sleep at all. He turns to walk to the office across the hall, never looking at me.

As he gets to the door, I whisper, "Given up on me Freddie?"

He jumps and turns to look at me, face full of shock. He slowly realizes that I am in fact awake, and starts to walk towards me. His face is ghostly pale, eyes wide and watery. He sits down on the chair next to my bed. "How are you feeling Georgie?" he asks softly. "You remember anything that happened?"

"No, I tried to already. All I can remember is everything going dark, after something fell." I tell him while shaking my head. Slowly, I pull myself into a sitting position. "Now, how are you doing? You look like you haven't slept, ate, or showered in a week!" I exclaim, smiling at him.

"That's because I haven't. Not really anyways.." He trails off, staring at his hands.

"Fred, how long have I been out?" He keeps looking at his hands, not answering me. I reach out and grab one of his hands, gaining his attention. "How long, Freddie?"

He sighs deeply before looking up at me, his dark brown eyes full of worry and fear, something I haven't seen from him in a long time. "George.. You had a relapse.. You've been out of it for almost three weeks. I was getting ready to write to St. Mungos before you said my name five days ago." He tells me, speaking so softly I have to strain to hear him. "You haven't been out that long since.." he trails off and I know what he's remembering.

The long nights awake, silencing spells to hid the screaming and tears. Days of not talking, while I laid in bed, "sick", or hiding the constant trips to the bathroom after meals. He hated what I had turned into. Yet for some reason, he never left my side. I couldn't say that about anyone else at the time, but most everyone had come back in the end.

"Hey, it's alright. It's not going to go back to that. Those times were really hard for both of us. I don't want to go back to that." I try to reassure him.

"Yeah.. I guess. Look.. Can I get you some food or something?" he asks, already getting up and heading to the door. I could tell I had crossed that line for him, where he just wouldn't talk about the problem for awhile.

"No, I'm fine. Go do whatever you need to do. I might get up in a bit. Go on, I'll be fine." I add when he hesitates. He tries to smile as he almost bolts out of the room, heading for the kitchen. Listening a little longer, I hear the door closing and the creak of the steps.

I know he's going to the Leaky Cauldron, to go drink who knows what for how ever long. I remember when he used to slip down to the Hog's Head for some firewhiskey when things were tough. I always knew where he was going, even though he always tried to hide it.

Sighing, I lay back down and stare at the ceiling. Considering the fact that Fred wouldn't be back for a long time, I figure I have time to do a few things around the house. As I try to get up, the fog rolls back in and the darkness consumes me again.


	4. Chapter 4  Coping

A/N

This may seem really out of character for Fred, in a lot of ways. But you have to remember there is a past between them that we haven't heard of yet, at least in this story. So please, try and be accepting of this Fred because it will get better. Also, I couldn't remember who the girl was that worked in their shop and by the time that I started writing this, I didn't want to go back and change her name. Laziness on my part? Most likely. But please if you are reading this, don't give up on this story.

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><p>Coping<p>

Fred walks down the street, full of people busy getting ready for the upcoming school year. He knew letters hadn't been sent out yet, but families were always out doing things with their kids during the summer. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was overly crowded, spilling out onto the streets. Gamble and Japes Joke Shop was loud and crazy, but nothing seemed to be able to break through Fred's mood.

He continued to stalk down the street, unaware to what was going on around him. People avoid him, not wanting to deal with his bad mood.

When Fred reaches the brick wall that separates the Ally from the Leaky Cauldron, he takes out his wand and taps the third brick about the trash can. There was a time in his life, where he would have been amazed at how the wall moved, but now, he was blindly watching it, uncaring and unnoticing.

Victorie was working when he walked in and noticed that he still seemed horrible. He had been coming in pretty regularly since George's incident three weeks ago. She had always tried to be working whenever he came in. she knew when to cut him off and how to do it without getting him angry. Someone else had tried to cut him off the first time he was here and he went into a blind rage.

He came over and sat at the bar near her. Staring at his hands, eyes full of pain, he never said a word or looked up at her. Sighing heavily, Victorie slid over a shot glass and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. Pouring him a shot, she notices how bad he really does seem to be getting.

Fred pulls the glass over to himself, staring down at its amber glow, before tipping it back in a practiced motion. Victorie notices he shows no signs that he burn of the whiskey affected him. Worried, she pours him another shot.

By the time he downs his fifth shot, he still hasn't shown any emotion. Victorie realizes that he is slipping deeper and deeper into his depression. She wonders, not for the first time, why he hadn't gotten help for George yet, why he just let him stay how he was. She knew he had woken up once, but that was almost a week ago. At first, when she suggested owling for help, he made her promise not to. That was all he had asked of her.

After she poured him another shot, she went and clocked out. It was time to cut him off and she didn't need to be working anyways. She watched him tip back the shot before she walked up behind him.

"Come on sweetie" She whispers lightly in his ear, a hand on his shoulder. "Time for you to take a break." Not acknowledging her existence, he gets up and waits for her to lead the way. She takes his hand in hers and leads him to the stairs behind the bar.

She leads him up the stairs and to the fourth room on the left. When he stumbles walking into her room, she catches him and helps him stagger over to her bed. For the first time that night, he looked up at her, eyes slightly glazed over. It made her want to cry, seeing the pain and sadness that filled his beautiful eyes.

Sitting down opposite of him, she reaches out to run her fingers through his thick, ginger hair. Since she had met him, his hair had grown a few inches, now brushing his shoulders in the back. He turned those eyes on her again, a pleading look now mixed in with the sadness.

Sighing, she pulls him closer to her, resting her forehead against his. She could smell the whiskey on his breath and taste it on his lips as she pressed her lips against his. It was a soft kiss and as she pulls away, Fred pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her.

Victorie is never afraid when she is with Fred. She knows that even though he's drunk, whether from the whiskey or the depression. She could always stop it. As she laid back against the pillows, pulling him with her, she decided that they wouldn't go as far as they had been.

Fred's breathing got heavier as she lipped her tongue past his lips, exploring his mouth. He moaned softly as she ran her fingers over his back and back up to his hair. Breaking the kiss, she trailed her kips along his neck before pulling him closer to her.

When Fred realized what she was doing and what it meant, he turned his head so he could look at her again. The look in his eyes broke her heart and tears welled up. She tried to hold them back, but one slipped past and fell down her cheek. Fred's hand came up and he gently used his thumb to brush it away, never taking his eyes from hers.

Gently kissing Victorie's cheek, Fred slid off of her, laying next to her. His six foot three frame barely fit on her bed, but he didn't seem to care. For the first time since the whole things happened, he pulled her into his arms. Victorie barried her face in his chest, letting her tears flow freely.

While she may not know what Fred was going through, she cried for him. She cried from all the pain she saw in him, she cried because of all the drinks she had poured, and she cried for the friend she wished she could have known.

Fred never said a word, but he just let her cry, while he held her close. He ran his fingers through her hair and silently reassured her. He pressed his lips lightly against her head and held her until she couldn't cry anymore.

When she was done crying, she looked up and noticed that his eyes were less glazed over than they were before. He say up and looked at her some more. "What's wrong Fred?" she asked puzzled.

Fred stood up and held his hand out for hers. When she grabbed his hand, he led her out of her room and back to Diagon Alley. Confused, Victorie continued to follow him all the way back to his shop. She hadn't been there since the day George had passed out. He let her inside and lead her up the stairs to the flat.

Victorie became more and more confused as he lead her to the room she knew he shared with George. The door was closed like it always was, but Fred didn't move to open it. He turned to look at her, like he was waiting for her to open the door. Scared and confused as to what she would find, she reached out and opened the door.

The bed that was in front of the door was empty and perfectly made. There wasn't a wrinkle in the bed, like it had never been slept in. Victorie knew George's bed was right next to Fred's bed, but she didn't want to look, not knowing what she would see.

Fred was still standing behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and took a breath, letting it out slowly. She was still wondering whether or not to look when softly nudged her forward. Right before she was going to open her eyes she heard someone clearing their throat and a voice.

"So you're the one I have to thank for my brother not drinking himself into the gutter, I take it?"


	5. Chapter 5  Letting It Out

A/N

Part of the story will be explained. Part of it won't be.

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><p>Letting It Out<p>

Victorie sat at the foot of George's bed while Fred sat on the rickety chair. Victorie couldn't believe that George had woken up finally. Yet, she was also confused as to why Fred still came to drink when he knew George was fine. She sat listening as George told her all he remembered before he passes out, knowing they were both still hiding something from her.

"Now, may I ask, how did you come by helping Fred?" George looked at her expectantly. "I'm surprised you were able to without getting hurt, which he is known to do when even slightly drunk."

So with each others help, Fred and Victorie explained everything that they could to George.

"Well, I was working late one night, waitressing, and I saw him walking in." Victorie started explaining, nodding her head towards Fred.

"It was a couple of days after.. After you had collapsed and you weren't waking up.. Victorie had been here earlier that week, wondering why we never got back to her." Fred struggled to say, moving over to sit closer to Victorie. He kept staring at his hands until she reached over to take one in her hands.

George looked at the two of them questioningly, but didn't ask what was going on. Instead he waited for one of them to continue the story.

Fred took a deep breath and squeezed Victorie's hand before continuing. "Somehow I managed to make my way over to the Leaky Cauldron without running into anyone I knew. It was getting hard for me to do anything at that point.. You remember the depression problem?" he asked, not looking at George.

Victorie tried to ask what they were talking about, but George cut her off with a shake of his head. "Yes I remember how you got." Fred quickly glanced over at George, trying to hide how ashamed he felt.

"I could tell there was something wrong with him and expected him to come sit over at one of my tables, but he never even acknowledged I was there." Victorie continued the story, knowing that it was going to be hard for Fred to at this point. "Instead he just say at the bar and I went back to working, not thinking anything of it. I'd seen a lot of wizards come in and drink, and it didn't faze me anymore. You learn to just let people live their lives.

"At least not until I heard the sound of glass breaking." Victorie stopped at Fred's barely audible intake of breath. She took a deep breath. Victorie knew she would have to continue telling the story, no matter how hard it was, because Fred couldn't remember anything after having his first shot. She had to explain to him why his hands were all scared the next morning. "I turned around and Fred had the bartender by the neck, holding a broken bottle against his cheek. He had firewhiskey running down his hand and his knuckles were so white. I ran over to help pull Fred off of the guy before anyone could pull out a wand and stun him. Tom wouldn't have appreciated that.

"I managed to get him off the guy and dragged him up the stairs to my room. He was still covered in the whiskey and the broken glass was cutting into his hand. I finally got him to let go of what was left of the bottle and tried to fix his cuts up as best as I could, but I'm not very good with healing." She glanced at Fred's hands, hating that she couldn't make those faint scars go away.

"The worst part though, was when Fred finally looked up at me. There wasn't any anger in his eyes, like there should have been after someone gets into a drunken fight. All that was there was just pain. Never ending pain. When I talked to the bartender later that week, he said that's why he never tried to defend himself, because he just saw all the pain.. He said he knew it wasn't the whiskey that was affecting him.."

"After that night, I made sure to be working at the bar whenever Fred came in and no one says anything else about it." Victorie finished.

George sat and thought about everything she had just said, trying to take it all in. Neither Fred nor Victorie said anything and they all just sat in silence for a long time. George looked over at Victorie, eyes full of gratitude, but he was still confused about something. "Thank you for helping him, but why did you keep letting him drink after that night?"At this question, Fred got up and walked out of the room, heading for the office. They heard the soft click of the door shutting and knew he wasn't leaving to go wander anywhere. "He's ashamed he couldn't keep himself from drinking, isn't he?" Victorie asked.

George sighed before saying softly, "Yeah, he's never been proud of that aspect of himself.. I just thought maybe someone would have been able to stop him this time.."

"Can I ask, what is this 'last time' you keep mentioning?" Victorie asked, but George was already shaking his head before she was done asking.

"Another story for another time. Right now, I think he needs you more." George told her motioning to the door across the hall. "Thank you, again, for helping him, however you could."

"Just so you know, I tried to stop him, I really did. But I just saw how much it hurt him and knew he needed something. Something to take the edge off, even if only for a little while." Victorie told him. She started to get up and walk to the door, but turned around before she left the room. "I'm not proud that I couldn't stop him. Nor am I proud of the things we may have done. I just want you to know though, he never hurt me. In anyways what so ever."

"I know he didn't. Fred may have a crazy, overbearing personality, but one thing he isn't, is a women abuser." George told her, already sinking back into the bed. "Got help him. We can talk again later, I'm not going anywhere."

Victorie gave him a soft smile before walking out of the room. She made sure to shut the door softly, knowing he was most likely already asleep. Turning around, she stared at the office door. She noticed the intricate design in the grain of the wood and noticed how it was mirrored on each side. In a way, it reminded her of the twins and how their personalities were so complex and different, yet shared so many points.

She took a deep breath and realized opening the door meant she was going to be devoting herself to these two boys. It would mean she couldn't leave them alone and that it wouldn't be something she could run away from. Once she knew the whole story, that was it. Unless she didn't open the door. Unless she just walked away right then and there and left them to their troubled pasts and let them rebuild their lives themselves…

Letting her breath out slowly, she grasped the door knob, running her thumb over the smooth curve of it, before pushing it open, sealing her fate with theirs, no matter what was to come.

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><p>AN  
>Now we know why Fred is always staring at his hands. Notice, he didn't look at them before that night. That he didn't look at them when he came in that first night to drink. He's staring at his scars. A forever reminder of his guilt and shame..<p>

Poor Freddie..


	6. Chapter 6 Starting Anew

A/N  
>There's a few things I want to say.<p>

First off, this is one of my longer chapters (yay). Here's the reason: it's in two parts in a way. This chapter isn't right after the last chapter. So when you see italics, it's a flashback. And when you see them again, the flashback is over. So like this: _Italics_ Blah blah blah_ italics_ - back to the "present" time.

Second, shout outs to both ChocolateMnMs and Miaboo011 for the reviews on every chapter. Remember, reviews make me want to write more and faster. It let's me know people are reading!

Hope you enjoy and look for a note at the bottom of the page too.

Disclaimer blah blah.

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><p>Starting Anew<p>

"Fred! George! Hurry up! People are trying to get in! There's a line halfway down the block!"

The sounds of the various objects whirling and clanging followed Victorie as she ran around the shop. She was trying to set up last minute displays and figure out where the ever elusive twins were hiding now.

"Calm down, calm down"

"Yeah, get the snapping teeth out of you panties already"

Two loud pops and Fred and George were standing next to Victorie, dressed in matching suits, but with different colored ties on. Although the purple and orange clashed terribly with their hair, they both looked quite nice.

"Yes, well, tell that to the growing line of people, who still have no idea what your shop is even called!" Victorie snapped, smiling as she looked at them.

She was so happy for both of them, knowing now what they had both come from. She was really surprised that they were able to even start this store, but both twins were adamant about keeping were the money came from very hush-hush. So she just kept helping them set up, just as excited for the shop opening as they were.

"Ready Fred? I think it's time we let these people know what we're all about."

"Ready George!" Fred flicked his wand and Victorie heard the whoosh as the curtain covering the sign was unveiled. Two pops and Fred and George were standing on the landing to the moving stairs that reached up to the ceiling. Shelves covered the walls full of the many products the twins had designed over the years.

"Ready guys? Because here they come!" Victorie exclaimed as she opened the door to the line of people. The first few people rushed into the shop but were immediately taken aback by the noises, various colours, and just by the amount of stuff there was to look at. Victorie greeted each person that walked in for a bit, before going to take her spot at the register.

Looking up at the twins, she was happy to see broad smiles stretched across their faces. They stayed up there for a long time, shouting out various products, answering questions, and telling prices for the confused. Before long, Victorie was busy with the line of people that snaked across the store floor.

The cacophony of noises in the shop only intensified as more and more people tried out various products. Squeals of laughter followed by little children running around, shrieks of delight at the Pygmy Puffs and love potions, and the ever present shouts from parents trying to control their kids were everywhere.

Fred and George eventually came down to help customers with the products and explain how they worked. Wherever they went, they were followed by an overly enthusiastic crowd of people. They couldn't get away from the crowd and ended up splitting up to better handle it.

The day continued without many problems, except for the occasional kid getting stuck with the Gallivanting Grasshoppers, or someone unable to shove the other end of a Puking Pastille into their mouths. Vanishing spells were becoming more and more useful as the day went on. Victorie was kept busy with the constant stream of people and never had a dull moment.

Four o'clock finally rolled around, the door closed, and the last few people were checked out. Exhausted, the trio made their way to the creaky steps in the back of the shop that lead up to the flat. Collapsing on the couch, none of them said a word, as the day sank in.

Finally, George looked over at Fred, sending him a huge smile. "We did it Fred. We really did it." He said in a soft voice. Standing up, he loosened his tie and walked to their bedroom. Before long, Victorie heard him walk to the bathroom, shutting the door, and the sound of the shower being turned on soon followed.

Victorie continued sitting there, not saying a word and still trying to take in the amount of people there had been.

"Thank you.." Fred said softly.

Victorie turned to look at him, not having to ask what he was talking about. She started to remember that night, only a week ago today, that she opened the office door…

"_Fred? Are you ok?"_ Victorie asked softly as she cracked open the door. "Can I come in?" a sigh and the ruffling of parchment.

"I suppose." he replied. Cautiously, Victorie walked into the room. Fred was sitting at one of the two desks, going over order forms and scribbling with and eagle feather quill here and there. He didn't look up at her as she shut the door and walked over to stand nest to him.

She placed a hand over his free one and ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "Fred? You ok?" she asked again. Still nothing.

Victorie placed her hand under his chin and turned his head towards hers, brushing his hair out of his eyes as she did. His gaze was distant, as if he were starring through her instead of at her. "Fred?" she said again, and his gaze focused on her, like he was just now realizing she was there.

"Oh, Victorie. How's George?" Fred asked, trying to sound like he was holding everything together.

"Sleeping. Worried about you." She say on his desk so he couldn't go back to what he was doing. She was careful to more the bottle of ink away and to move the order forms away so she wouldn't mess anything up. "He's fine" she reassured him when he started to get up.

Fred sigh again and collapsed back into the chair, his hands over his face.

"Fred, look at me." Victorie said, taking his hands in hers. She thought he was going to pull away, but instead he pulled her towards him, until she was in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder. Victorie didn't say anything as she held him close, giving him time to gather his thoughts.

They sat like that for close to an hour, neither of them moving or saying a word to the other. Finally, Fred started to release hid hold on her and looked up at her, sadness etched into his face. Victorie became confused as to why he was still so sad when George seemed like he was fine.

"This isn't the first time this has happened. Our last year at Hogwarts was… A hard one. For both of us, in different ways of course. It's still really hard to talk about it.." Fred broke off and started to pull away.

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me now." Victorie told him. At this, Fred seemed to relax a bit and stopped pulling away form her. "Tell me what you can, the rest can wait."

Fred seemed to smile, almost, at this. "I ended up drinking a lot." he continued. "Every night almost, I would sneak down to Hogsmeade and you can probably guess what I did. Eventually, I would stagger back up to the school and pass out in our room. George was always trying to hid the fact I went and did this, even though he was the one who was… 'sick'" Fred finished. He seemed to steel himself up, waiting for her judgment.

Victorie thought for a while, staring into his eyes. She didn't say anything, but she leaned towards him slowly. Still looking into his eyes, she placed a soft kiss on hi lips, the first time she had ever kissed him when he was sober. The first thought that crossed her mind was that Fred would push her away. That he wouldn't want this now he wasn't drunk.

Instead, he held her closer and deepened the kiss, a hand trailing down her back. His lips parted slightly and she could feel his tongue against her lips. She let him in, welcoming his familiar touch, grateful the taste of whiskey wasn't present.

Fred pulled away and rested his head on her shoulder, his breath hot against her neck. "Victorie?" he asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Please, don't leave us… Don't leave me.." he whispered, softer than before.

Running her fingers through his hair, she held him closer. "Freddie, I can't leave either of you. To many mysteries to solve, to much I know to leave you guys." she lifted his chin up and looked him in the eyes. "Plus, why would I ever want to leave you Fred?"

His eyes seem to brighten, if only a little, and a small smile grew on his lips.

"Whatever is going on or has gone on, we'll fix it together. Whether I find out tomorrow, or next year, I'm not going anywhere." Victorie said as she let go of Fred's chin and let him lay his head back _on her shoulder…_

Victorie… "Victorie?" she jumped as Fred placed his hand on her arm. "Victorie? You back yet?" Fred joked with a smile.

"Yeah.. Yeah I was just thinking, sorry." Victorie said, getting up as she did. Stretching, she listened for the sound of the shower and noticed it wasn't running anymore. "Go take a nap Fred. You look like you're about to crash anyways. I'm going to take a shower and go back to my place, ok?"

Fred jumped up at this and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't go.." he whispered.

Taken aback, she looked up at him confused. "Fred, I have to go. This isn't my home." She said, trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Stay here, with us." he turned his head to stare into her eyes. "With me." he said holding her closer. "Please, don't go…"

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><p>Sorry I really like cliff hangers.<p>

So here's the thing, I want to bring in a girl for George. I've played around with the idea of having him be with Victorie also, but she's becoming to connected to Fred and vice versa so I can't do that anymore. I've also though about bringing in Luna, or just making another new character. Any ideas? Should I hold a vote? It won't be for another chapter or two, so let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7 Confusion

A/N still looking for a girl for George. Almost don't want to stick with cannon. I really don't want to stay with cannon if I can help it. Least not now. Any and all ideas are appreciated. Still have one more chapter before I need her though.

* * *

><p>Confusion<p>

"Stay here, with us." he turned his head to stare at her. "With me" he held her closer. "Please, don't go."

Victorie was shocked and didn't know what to say. It wasn't like there was a place for her to stay in the flat. She couldn't share a bed with Fred, not with George in the same room. The only other room in the flat was the office the two of them shared.

"Fred… I can't stay here. This isn't my home. It's not like I would be gone for longer than a day. I have to come back, you know that." Victorie tried to explain to him, wanting him to understand how she felt.

Fred sighed and pulled away from her, his hair shielding his eyes. Shaking his hair back, he gave her a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I guess it would be kind of hard for you to stay the night or just stay here in general. I won't try and guilt you into staying." To Victorie, his smile seemed forced. She knew he didn't want her to leave.

"How about this. I'll stay here for a few more hours and then I can just apparate home." Fred's smile turned real as she talked.

"I'm ok with that. We can talk and just hang out.""I still need a shower, so I'll be right back." Victorie said sneaking from his grasp. "And no trying to sneak in. I need some alone time after having to deal with those crazy customers."

Fred watched as she left for the bathroom. When he heard the shower turn on, he made his way to his and George's room.

"Coming in" Fred said as he opened the door. George was sitting on the edge of Fred's bed, staring at the floor.

"I was starting to wonder when you were going to come in." George said, not looking up from the floor. "Trying to talk Victorie into staying?" a hint of a chuckle could be heard in his voice.

"Alright, what's wrong George. We had a great first day with the shop and you're in here moping." Walking over to George, Fred started to get upset with his twin. "I'm surprised the shop is even open so quickly. Seeing as how you were bed ridden for three weeks."

George looked up at Fred and Fred immediately wished he had never said anything. "Oh and you going and drinking almost every night helped." George's voice was icy. He sighed and looked back down at the floor.

"Do you think I am happy with the fact that I had another relapse? That I'm glad I had a month away, like it was some kind of vacation? I hated it in school, when I could hardly go to class and spent my time copying down your homework? The countless hours stuck in bed, no energy to move? Or how about the various times I stood in front of a mirror, wishing I didn't look anything like my own brother, that I was skinnier than him so people could tell us apart?" George was still staring at the floor, ashamed that he had a relapse, ashamed that he wasn't there to help Fred when he needed it the most…

"Do you think I'm proud or happy with any of that?" George stood up, standing right in front of Fred. "Because if you do, you're a git. Why would I be happy about any of that? Why you I leave you to set up the shop by yourself? WHY WOULD I WANT MY BROTHER, MY CLOSEST COMPANION, TO TURN INTO A FUNCTIONING ALCHOLIC AGAIN?" George was yelling now, unable to hold back his anger and frustration with himself anymore.

He stormed past Fred to open the door. Turning around, he looked at Fred one last time. "I don't know what you've been thinking this past month, but I honestly can't stand myself and all I wanted to do was wake up and come back to you." His gaze was full of fire, but not directed at Fred. Hate and fire with himself. "I'll see you later. I just can't be here right now. I just.." Breaking off, he opened the door to see Victorie standing right there.

"I um.. Just wanted to know.. Where you kept your towels…" she tried to explain. George turned a pained expression on her before pushing his way past. Before Victorie could ask what was happening, Fred pushed past her to run after George. A large crack let Victorie know he was already to late though.

Victorie walked into the living room to see Fred leaning against the kitchen counter, unable to comprehend what just happened.

"Fred?" She asked softly. "Are you.. Do you want me to do anything?"

"Just leave.. Just.. I want to be alone…" Fred said, his voice barely audible. "Please… Just go…"

And so Victorie left. She could tell when she wasn't wanted and now was definitely one of those times. So with a twist, and a crack, she was gone. Fred turned to look at the spot he assumed she last stood, the mask hiding his emotions starting to crack.

He walked over to the fire place, where picture of him and George were on the mantel. Grabbing one, he looked closely at the picture and noticed it was one from their last year at Hogwarts. It was one of the few pictures that Colin took during a Dumbledore's Army meeting. They were standing next to each other, laughing as Ron got blasted by Hermione again.

Looking at himself, he could see the bags under his eyes from the late nights out drinking. He could also see the robes hanging off of George, like the were way to big for him. In reality, they had only been bought a few months earlier, perfectly sized to him. It was a beginning of the year splurge they had spent on themselves…

Fred threw the picture at the wall, the glass in the frame shattering as it hit the floor. He hated those good times filled with such horrible memories. He just wanted his brother back and thought he had his brother back up until a month ago. Everything had seemed fine but now it just seemed like it was all falling apart again.

Sitting on the couch, Fred held his hands over his face and he tried to figure out where it all went wrong again. He just needed to know why they couldn't just be happy now. That was the reason why they got out the school, why they got away from the Burrow. They had just wanted to pick their lives back up and be happy again. Especially now that their dream was coming true.

"Oh George, where did it all go so wrong?"


End file.
